


Back at Home

by Rhiannon87



Series: Some Sort of Crazy [ARCHIVED] [7]
Category: Uncharted
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 17:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's getting the hang of this whole marriage thing. Takes place during the same timeframe as 'The Way We Break,' about two months after the wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back at Home

“You know,” Nate comments, “I've always been kinda surprised this didn't bother you.”

Elena glances up from the tiny statue she's been studying intently ever since he walked through the front door and put it in her hands with a smile. It's a detailed carving of a bird, the eyes and feathers painstakingly etched into a piece of stone no longer than his thumb. Nate had palmed it on the way out of the tomb almost without even thinking about it. Everything else-- what little there was left, anyway-- would be sold, but it's worth keeping this. For her.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Nate shrugs and drops down on the couch beside her. “What I do.”

“Oh, the thieving.”

“It's not always theft!” Nate protests. “Sometimes it's, you know...” Tomb robbery is the first phrase that comes to mind, and that just sort of sinks his entire argument right off. “Treasure hunting.”

Elena smirks. “Some people would call that robbing the dead,” she points out.

“But you don't.”

She shrugs and sets the carving down on the table. “The way I see it, the original owners are all long dead,” she says. “The museums don't really have any more claim to these things than anyone else.”

“Huh.” Nate hadn't ever really thought about it like that.

Elena swings her distractingly bare legs up over his lap and grins at him. “What about you? You ever have pangs of some long-buried lawful tendencies?”

Nate laughs. “God, no. I grew up with a healthy disdain for authority.” A disdain that Sully had nurtured into a full-grown life philosophy.

“Somehow, I'm not surprised.” Elena stretches her arms over her head-- and god, all of her is just distracting tonight, she's wearing shorts and a tank-top in deference to the whole 'August in L.A.' situation, and he's been away a week and a half. And people said marriage took all the sex out of a relationship. Elena drops her arms, letting one hand fall to the back of his neck and the other to her knee. “How was your trip?”

He shrugs. “All right. There wasn't as much left as I'd have liked.”

“Is there ever?” Elena asks with a laugh.

“Sure there is.” The light glinting on Elena's wedding ring catches his attention; normally he'd chalk it up to his well-known magpie tendencies, but his heart doesn't flip in his chest when he spots a shiny bangle in a ruin. This is different. Nate glances over at her and grins. “But the stuff that's really valuable always ends up being world-threatening.”

“And then buried under a pile of rubble.”

Nate rolls his eyes. “Once. That happened _once_. I didn't bury El Dorado under any kind of rubble.”

“The ocean is a must more efficient disposal method, I'll give you that.” Elena smiles, idly rubbing her thumb against Nate's skin. “I'm glad you're back.”

“Me too.” On impulse, Nate takes Elena's left hand in his and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

She laughs. “How gentlemanly of you, Mr. Drake. That's a surprise.”

“Hey. I can be a gentleman.”

“Despite all evidence to the contrary,” she teases.

Nate scoffs. “What about all my so-called 'white-knighting' that you keep complaining about?”

“Mm, good point,” Elena says. “Maybe I shouldn't encourage this kind of behavior.”

“Nope. Too late.” Nate slides out from under her legs and gets to his feet, then bends down and scoops her up in his arms. Elena laughs and twines her arms around his neck. “Swept off your feet and carried across the threshold.”

“Technically, you swept me off the couch,” Elena points out as he turns towards the bedroom.

“Hush, you.”

“Make me.”

The ensuing kiss stops Nate in his tracks; if he keeps walking while Elena's doing such interesting things with her tongue, one of them will end up banging an appendage on the wall. He grins at her when they part. Elena smiles back and taps him on the shoulder. “C'mon. Make with the threshold-carrying. You've been gone eleven nights. I _missed_ you.”

He missed her, too. He missed this. It's nice, having a place to come back to. Having a place that feels like home. He can't quite say any of that, not yet, so instead he just says “as you wish” and carries Elena into their bedroom.


End file.
